


Kismet

by KendraLuehr



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Will, Best Friends, Comfort, Drunk Dancing, F/M, Fluff and Angst, French Kissing, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, House Party, Humor, Kissing, Sensuality, Tuxedos, protective Beverly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-16 01:44:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KendraLuehr/pseuds/KendraLuehr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With his mind stuck in such a dark place, Will Graham turns to an unexpected source for comfort. He just didn't expect said comfort to come from a stuffy, unbearable gala at Dr. Lecter's house. Will x Beverly</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strung Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've actually had this story posted on fanfiction.net for quite some time now (after the episode that Will and Alana kissed, actually), so I apologize if this seems "caught in the past." I'm close to finishing this, but I've been distracted by one-shots and other multi-chapter stories.
> 
> Anyway, I just wanted to point out that by the time _Red Dragon_ rolls around, Will DOES ingest a healthy amount of alcohol on a regular basis. That's why I don't find his binge-drinking here all that OOC. I tend to have a bad habit of mixing the books with the show, because I love every version known to man. And the same goes for Beverly calling Will "champ" all the time. That was a _Red Dragon_ thing (or at least, I don't recall Bev ever calling Will "champ" in the show – though I wish she would!). …But I digress.
> 
> Long story short, I wanted to attempt a more light-hearted spin on the fandom. Everything's so dark and angsty! I'm working on CH 2 as we speak, but writing humor can be a bit difficult at times. Hope you enjoy!

Will Graham was inebriated. So much so that when he gazed up at Beverly Katz, he didn't even realize they were in the safety of his own living room.

"Um…Will?"

"Hmm?"

"You're on the floor…"

"Oh." Still not fully registering what was going on – or better yet, how Beverly had gotten into his house in the first place – he slowly pulled himself up and winced. "What time is it?"

"Late enough that I've been sent to come get you, Sleeping Beauty. What happened last night?"

"Yes."

 _"Yes?_ Graham, I didn't even ask you a yes or no question." Rolling her eyes, Beverly leaned forward and sniffed his breath. "Ugh…you're drunk off your ass!"

"Am not," Will mumbled. His pounding headache and tunnel vision, however, were both indicators of the opposite.

"Seriously, Champ, what happened?"

He looked up at her then, trying to focus his bleary eyes on her troubled face. "Where's Alana?"

"Alana? Are you telling me that hot doctor's responsible for this? I'm disappointed in you…"

"She's _veeery_ hot."

Making a face, Beverly attempted to help Will stand on his own two feet. "Alright, Romeo, let's just get you into work and see what happens, ok? Crawford's going to be super pissed if you don't show up."

"Hmph – he's not my mom," Will grumbled.

Ignoring his commentary, Beverly tugged on his arm and gave a cry when Will staggered into her, the force of the stumble causing him to end up right back on the floor. "Ugh, seriously, Graham? Don't you know how to use your own two feet?"

He gave a noncommittal utterance.

"I'll take that as a no…"

Dragging Will into the bathroom, Beverly bent over and switched on the showerhead. "In you go, Champ." With a grunt, she lifted him by the arms and draped him over the tub. He looked absolutely ridiculous with his ass pointed in the air, but the water seemed to have the desired effect since he lurched up, coughing and sputtering in a panicky fashion.

With her hands on his back, Beverly gently tried to ease him back up into a sitting position. When his glassy, wall-eyed stare met hers, she gave a soft smile and said, "This had better not become a repeat offense, bucko. As much as I love dunking your ass in the shower, wet doesn't really become you . . . and I mean that in the nicest of ways."

Will blinked. "Um…when did you get in here?"

Alarmed, Beverly leaned in closer and inspected his eyes. "Goddammit, Graham, how much did you have to drink? Come over here…"

Urging him toward the latrine, she forced Will to open his mouth and stuck her finger down his throat. He gagged, his body lurching upward before he found himself sprawled over the toilet, his tortured heaves echoing in the room as he expelled his liquid breakfast into the bowl.

Beverly's cool, gentle hands brushed the hair back from his face as he panted.

"God, the things I do for you," she complained. "Next time could you maybe _not_ vomit all over me?"

Going over to the sink, she cleaned her hands before grabbing a wash cloth and soaking it. "Sit up, Graham."

Will obediently leaned against the toilet and released a breath, his eyes going in and out of focus as she came toward him with the wet cloth. She squatted down in front of him, her brow puckered with concern and frustration as she mopped at his sweaty face.

"Never scare me like that again, alright, asshole? I may deal with a lot of dead bodies on a regular basis, but that doesn't mean I'm ready to find yours."

If Will hadn't been recovering from his alcoholic binge, he would've noted the soft hint of endearment in her voice. Instead, he gave a stupid nod and slumped against her.

Moving to the side, Beverly re-situated his bulk so that he was lying across her lap. For the time being, she'd have to tell Crawford that Will was "otherwise detained."

\--

"What do you mean, you 'couldn't come in today?' I'm not paying you to nurse a hangover!"

Will winced, his eyelids fluttering as Crawford's sharp, booming voice reverberated throughout his skull. "Jack, I…"

"No – this is unacceptable, Graham! It's bad enough that you've been slacking in the field lately, but now I find out that you're also slacking in the _classroom?_ Some of those students will soon be under my employ!"

Will gave a dull nod. "Yes, yes, I know…I'm sorry."

"And I suppose you expect me to accept that apology?"

"Well…yeah."

Exhaling through his nostrils, Crawford folded his arms and scowled. He opened his mouth to speak, but paused and looked toward the space above Will's head. 

The sound of a clearing throat came then, and Will jumped before turning and raising a brow. Dr. Hannibal Lecter stood in the doorway, his maroon eyes flashing queerly in the light as he gave them both a coy smile. "Forgive me, I was not aware that I was intruding," he apologized. "I merely wanted to stop by and make a brief request." When he realized that he still had their undivided attention, he continued, "I would be delighted if you two would attend my gala this weekend. It is a black tie affair, of course."

Will wrinkled his nose when he realized that last line had been directed toward him. It was true that no one had ever seen him in a tux, but with a professor's salary, it wasn't like he could afford to be well-dressed 365 days a year. He much preferred his plaid and tweed. He did, however, have a suit stuffed in the back of his closet for such occasions. He'd only worn it twice: once to his mother's second wedding, and then again to her husband's funeral.

Scratching the back of his head, Will finally asked, "Sooo, uh...this is a gala? At your house, or...?"

"Yes, it is a simple, yet intimate gathering at my home," Lecter clarified.

Will had to chuckle. "Simple? Yeah, right. I don't think you're capable of putting that word to good use."

"I suppose I am guilty as charged." Lecter placed a hand over his heart in a gesture of mock humility. "Though I am aware of your altered state of mind, I do hope that you will remember this affair. Most everyone in the department has been invited to attend, so I am sure they will remind you at some point."

Will exhaled. "Great...so now I have to pull out my dusty, ill-fitting suit."

"I can alter it, if you so desire."

He snorted. "At this point, is there anything you _can't_ do? It's going to be hard to nab a woman with you always floating around in the background."

Lecter's expression was blank, though he was smiling. "I will take that as a yes, then. You may drop your suit off by my office whenever you wish. Just be sure to include your measurements so I know what to fix."

"Uhhh...thanks."

With his head cocked to the side, Lecter cleared his throat and announced, "I am afraid I must take my leave now – I am needed a few cities over for the preparations of my party. The affair starts at seven o'clock on Saturday, though I would be thrilled if you both were to come around a bit earlier."

"Sure," Will agreed, feeling his eyelids grow heavy. "If that's what you want..."

"I do, indeed." Lecter smiled at Crawford and said, "I do hope your charming wife will accompany you, Agent Crawford - and you must bring a beau as well, Will. Have a splendid day."

And with that, he was gone.

\--

As Will tried to concentrate on the case files on his screen, he heard a soft knock and looked up to see Beverly lingering in the doorway. She had a packet of cupcakes in hand, a large grin on her lips as she wiggled them by her ear. "Wanna share?"

Will snorted and returned his attention to his laptop.

"So that's a no? You've never turned down Madame Hostess before!" Walking over to his desk, she brazenly had a seat and tried to be mindful of his papers. "Is this about Bloom?"

"I don't want to talk about her."

"Well, why not? I'm not trying to be a pain, or anything – you know how I get. I never told anyone about what you said this morning, so your secret's still safe."

"I don't have a secret," Will snapped.

Beverly held her hands up in surrender. "Okaaay, then you don't... Judging by your sour mood, I take it you've been officially invited to Lecter's gala? You always get uptight when you have to attend social events."

"I do not."

"Do so!" Beverly grinned, not even caring how immature they both currently sounded. Will's excuse was that he was still slightly under the influence, but hers was that she enjoyed goading him and seeing just how far she could get him to bend. Sometimes she learned some very interesting things when he was on the defensive.

Finally opening the cupcakes, Beverly took a bite and gave a seductive "Mmmm." She then proceeded to wave the sampled dessert in Will's face, trying not to smile as his brow creased in frustration. "Are you _sure_ you don't want one?"

"No, but I'm pretty sure I want to kill you."

"Oh, c'mon! I wanted to get you relaxed before I broke the bad news."

Will's brow puckered. "Bad news? What sort of bad news? Is everything alright?"

"Not for you," Beverly said, now finishing off the first cupcake. "Our dear Dr. Bloom flew in from Georgetown yesterday evening. She plans on attending Lecter's gala, so I figured you might want to know."

Will felt himself reeling with shame and rejection. Even though it had been a full week since he'd kissed Alana – twice – he knew he wasn't prepared to see her. They hadn't even bothered speaking after that fateful day, because she'd made it quite clear that there could never be a future between them. He was too far gone.

Shifting uncomfortably beneath Beverly's curious gaze, Will coughed once and asked, "Is that all? I mean...who cares? We're both grown adults, so we can handle ourselves like colleagues. What happened didn't wreck our friendship."

Beverly scoffed, her voice muffled with cupcake as she said, "Yeah, right. Bloom made me promise not to tell you she was here."

"Huh? Why?"

"Why do you think, Einstein? You really freaked her out that night."

Will soured, the hollow of his cheek twitching as he glared off to the side. He'd thought that Alana was a mature adult, so to think of her running her mouth like a high school gossip deeply upset him. "Whatever," he finally muttered. "You can tell her to relax, because I'm taking _you_ to the gala."

Beverly's grin was wolfish. "You are?"

"Yes," he said, "I am." He was honestly surprised by the conviction in his tone, let alone his decision to even bother attending in the first place. Will hated formal gatherings.

Appearing oddly pleased with herself, Beverly rose off the desk and asked, "So I'm being used as bait to make Bloom jealous?"

Will glanced down at his lap. "Um…well…"

"Great! You can pick me up at six. Or better yet, we can 'rock the society pages' and let _me_ pick up _you."_

Will appeared embarrassed. "Oh...well alright, if that's what you want."

Beverly grinned and headed toward the door, tossing her wrapper into the trash before turning back to him. "Oh, and Graham?"

"Yeah?"

"Make sure your tie's blue – if you really want to piss Bloom off, we'll need to match."

Will grimaced. It looked like he was going to have to go tie-shopping.


	2. The Gala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Beverly go tie-shopping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I lied. I said that this would be the last chapter, but I actually cut this one in half. If I kept going, I A) would be inclined to rush since I want to get to the good parts, and B) this chapter would be WAY too freaking long. I think (I hope) I did you guys a favor. 
> 
> If you'd like to see more Will/Beverly (fan art and the like), feel free to follow me on Tumblr (musicboxmcmories). I also post a healthy amount of Will/Abigail.

The next morning, Will found himself pacing around in his empty classroom. He wasn't in a very good mood. Now that the alcohol was cleared out of his system, any prior numbness was gone. All that remained were bouts of irritability, the ever-hovering thoughts of Alana, and fresh concerns on what to do about the gala.

"Knock, knock!"

Will lurched in surprise, his face paling when Beverly cheerily entered the room. "Oh, uh...does Jack need me for a consultation?"

She came over to him and impatiently tugged on his belt loop. "Nope, not this time around - are you forgetting that we need to go shopping?"

"I...I thought I'd be getting a tie on my own."

"Are you kidding me? I can't trust you with a monumental job like that! Besides, I need to steer you away from stores like 'Bad Plaid and Beyond.'"

"Beverly..."

"No, I mean it," she said to Will. "This is the one time a year I'll ever be caught _dead_ in a dress, so I might as well do it in good company. And let's face it: you haven't shopped for clothes since the 80's. Would it kill you to venture into the present for a bit?"

Will shook his head and glanced at the floor. "Isn't it bad luck to see your dress before the party?"

"That's with _weddings,_ you moron." With a vibrant laugh, Beverly hooked her arm through his and urged him toward the door. "C'mon, Champ, I deserve to be pampered - what are you so afraid of?"

"Well...I haven't really asked anyone on a date since..."

"High school? Yeah, I can tell - it really shows."

"You _know_ I meant Alana."

Leading Will out into the parking lot, Beverly found her SUV and unlocked the doors. "Hop in, Casanova! But be careful with the leather seats."

Considerably soured, Will did as he was told and slid into the car, never taking his gaze off the windshield as she climbed in beside him. When she began talking again, his eyes rolled down toward the floor.

"You know, if you keep on frowning like that, your face will get stuck that way."

His lips twisted in distaste. "You're a little young for that type of conjecture, aren't you?"

"Oh lighten up, it was just a joke! Unlike most people in the department, I'm actually trying to make you smile."

"Yeah?" he asked, now irritably pointing toward his face. _"Not_ smiling."

Beverly shrugged as she eased out of the parking space. "Alright, but don't say I didn't give good advice. A little bit of happiness would get rid of your Gloomy Gus face."

"What's wrong with my face?"

"Well nothing, aside from the ever-present 'scowl of despair.'"

Will snorted and leaned more snugly against the door. He knew she was right, but he didn't feel like pretending he was happy.

They drove in tense silence for several miles until Beverly sighed, her shoulders lifting as she apologized, "Look, I'm really sorry if I pissed you off... I just don't like seeing you so mopey all the time. Alana's not even worth _half_ a mope."

"I'd look pretty stupid with only a quarter of a mope, don't you think?"

Beverly smiled at that. "There, you see? You still have a sense of humor kicking around in there – _use_ it!"

Will slumped his shoulders forward. "You know, for not liking 'girl talk,' you sure seem to enjoy bringing it up with me."

"Only because you're a hopeless cause," she shot back. "Well...maybe not hopeless, but you're pretty out there in the realm of 'damaged goods.'"

"Gee, thanks."

"Oh c'mon, you know what I mean."

"Yeah," he softly agreed, "I guess I do."

Not wanting to admit that his tone unnerved her, Beverly bit her lip and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. She wanted so badly to touch him in that moment - to slide her hand into the crook of his arm so that he might turn those tragic eyes to her. In spite of her flippant attitude, Beverly couldn't deny that she cared a little too much about Will Graham's problems. He was her friend. He deserved nothing but compassion, but sometimes her coping mechanisms didn't jive with his solitude.

"I'm sorry," she said.

When Will looked up at her again, he was actually smiling. It was weak and soft, though she knew she'd been forgiven.

\--

By the time they'd reached the mall, the tension between them had been replaced (for the most part) with normalcy.

"Ugly, ugly, _extremely_ ugly, and...whoa. There's actually a plaid dress in here! Is this a Will Graham original?" With a sly grin, Beverly displayed the hideous dress like a simpering haberdasher. "Talk about bad taste... Hey, what about this one? Or is it too 'prom'? Hell if I know about any of this elegant shit."

As Beverly put the dress back onto the rack, Will rubbed his forehead and grimaced. "I thought we were shopping for ties...these are _dresses."_

"Give the man in green a prize! I knew there was a reason Jack hired you!" With sarcastic applause, Beverly stalked toward him and said, "As much as pervy Zeller would love it, I can't very well go to this shindig naked. Besides, this whole little scheme was _your_ idea, remember?"

"Well sure, but I didn't think I'd be spending my spare time surrounded by women's clothing."

"Yeah? I think that's a sign you need to get laid, my friend. What man _doesn't_ want to be surrounded by women's clothing? It means she's taken them off!" With a pleasant laugh, Beverly returned her attention to the rack from the Seventh Circle of Hell. Withdrawing a scanty scrap of a dress, she quirked a brow and joked, "Damn...do people believe in covering their knockers anymore? Thank _God_ tuxes don't have a hole cut in the crotch area."

Will felt his cheeks grow hot. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he impatiently waited for Beverly to find something - _anything_ \- that might meet with her approval. At the rate they were going, they would be at the boutique all day.

Not seeming bothered by Will's attitude, Beverly smiled a bit and confessed, "You know, this is very out of character for me. If my mother could see me now, she'd completely flip her shit - in a good way, of course. When I was little, she'd have to fight to get me into a dress. There were a lot of bloody noses back in those days."

Will cracked a smile at that, and Beverly grinned in triumph. "Ah-ha, so it _is_ true - you _do_ have more than one facial expression! Nice to see you smile for a change."

Will's features clouded. "I don't normally have a reason to smile."

"Yeah? Well if you stick with me, I'll give you several."

This banter and baiting would go on for hours - or at least, what _felt_ like hours - until Beverly just gave up and picked the simplest, plainest, least eye-catching blue dress she could find. "Let's go," she urged Will. "We can go to a different place and pick up a snazzy tie."

\--

"What about this one?"

Beverly gave Will a look. "Graham, that's the first and only tie you've looked at - I hate to break it to you, but this whole 'not gonna look 'cause I'm a man' act isn't going to fly with me. Let me help, ok?" Pushing past him, she rummaged through the ties with a look of concentration. It almost seemed as if she were out on the field, she was so focused.

"Did you-?"

"Shh!" she hissed, only to give a pleased little "Ah!" before plucking a simple, cobalt blue bow tie from the rack. "Let's see how this one looks, shall we?"

"Probably like any other tie," Will grumbled.

Ignoring him, Beverly held it up beneath his chin and gave an appraising little smile. "Aww, look at you! It goes horribly with the plaid, but _look_ at you!" With all joking aside, she did have to admit it looked very nice.

"Isn't this a black tie affair? I can't match you without breaking the rules."

Beverly's eyes gave a rebellious little flash. "Well that's the fun, isn't it? Who wants to blend in with every boring old stiff in the room? Lecter can get over himself." Thrusting the bow tie into his grasp, she said, "This is the tie for you, Graham. Go ahead and buy it."

Will's smile was grim. "Fine, but if anyone asks, I'm saying this was _your_ idea."

"Ah, opting for the ol' 'I can't make my own decisions because my balls are in a vice' ploy? Brilliant. I'm sure that'll be an instant hit with the gossips." Laughing at his sour expression, she slid an arm around his waist and urged, "C'mon, Champ - I'm sure we've got a body to inspect."

\--

"Ah, good evening, Will! I wasn't sure if you would be stopping by."

"I kinda had to - I mean, I'd look pretty stupid showing up to your gala in nothing but boxer shorts." Chuckling at the mental image, Will followed Lecter into his office and glanced around him. "I appreciate you mending my suit, 'cause God only knows Beverly would've teased me about it for the rest of the year. I think I got it in the late 80s or early 90s... Can't remember which."

Lecter nodded politely, not really listening as he opened his closet and plucked the garment from the rack. "Here you are, Will," he said. "I was able to make several adjustments, so I hope you don't mind."

The agent balked when the suit entered his hands. "What...? You did all this?"

"But of course."

"But it's so... _new_ -looking. And you even added one of those goofy scarves that I've never understood." With a grin, Will immediately caught himself and corrected, "I mean, uh...I'm sure it'll look very nice. Thank you."

"You are quite welcome - it was no trouble at all."

"Sadly with you, I actually believe that. I'm beginning to think you're incapable of failure."

Lecter smiled, enjoying the hidden meaning as Will continued to inspect his newly functional suit. "Would you perhaps like another gift?"

Will looked up and scrunched his brow. "Huh?"

"For the gala... You see, I'm almost certain that Agent Katz will not approve of your current disposition, so it would be in your best interest to at least touch up your facial hair."

Feeling his cheeks burn, Will scowled and slung the garment over his arm. "Thanks, but I think I can take care of myself. Though this may come as a surprise to everyone, I actually know how to shave."

"Indeed?" Lecter had to smile. "But have you experienced the superiority of a straight razor? I refuse to use anything but my own personal blade." Retrieving a mahogany box from his desk, he set it onto the table and Will blanched when the sharp, silver object slid into view.

"Are you kidding me? I'd slit my throat with that thing!"

"Nonsense! It is quite capable of only removing what is necessary."

Will balked as he stared down at the sparkling, reflective razor in horror. Something about the sharp edges made him think of death, so he exhaled and immediately went pacing toward the other side of the room. "No thanks," he unsteadily declined. "I'll, uh...I'll stick to my cheap-ass plastic razor, if you don't mind."

"If you insist."

When Will was certain that the potential weapon had been put away, he turned back around and gave a weak smile. "Well, uh...I guess I'd better head out now. Thanks again for all you've done. I can't believe this only took you a few days..."

"It was no trouble at all - I was more than happy to do it. Shall I expect you and Agent Katz earlier than 7:00?"

Will paused with his hand on the door frame, then he gave a brisk nod and agreed, "Yeah, sure...goodnight."

"Goodnight, Will."

As the younger man left the room, Lecter sat back down at his desk and put the razor back in its drawer.

\--

The next few days were but a blur for Will. He felt as if he were moving in slow motion, following through with his lessons and advising on important cases. Beverly was kind enough not to bring up the party (or Alana), but it also unnerved him how she didn't mention their date at all. Was she happy he'd asked her? Did she even _want_ to go? And more importantly, why did he even care? Beverly had agreed without so much as a fuss - she'd insisted it'd be a blast - so why was he agonizing over it as if it were an actual date? It was just a social gathering between two friends, and nothing more. There could never be anything romantic about a jealousy scheme.

Aggravated with his inner musings, Will continued to stand in his bathroom and winced, holding the pants to his suit as he stared down at them as if they were the enemy. Finally deciding to take the plunge, he stuck one leg in while steadying himself on the other. His balancing act soon turned into a fit of hopping, and he toppled over while falling against the sink. _"Son_ of a..." Biting his lip, he rubbed his sore elbow before completing the surprisingly bothersome task of dressing.

"Might as well've gone naked," he grumbled.

Now slipping into his suit jacket, Will fastened the buttons before attaching the bow tie Beverly had chosen. Afterward, he pulled on the ornate, unbearably scratchy scarf that Dr. Lecter had given him. What kind of man wore a _scarf,_ anyway?

Exhaling, he grabbed his razor and ran it under the water in the sink. A few nicks and a good hair-brushing later, Will actually laughed at his reflection as he shook his head. He hadn't bothered with his appearance this much in years, and it honestly showed. Hopefully the change was a good thing.

Exiting his bathroom and carefully weaving through his dogs, Will tossed them a few treats to keep them from jumping on his legs and smiled. A little dog hair never hurt anyone, though he had a feeling he'd stick out like a sore thumb if he were to be covered in grime.

True to her word, Beverly arrived amidst a bobbing of headlights and whirring gravel. Will peered out the window, trying to calm his dogs as they excitedly clamored to the front door. He hushed them, anxious as he watched Beverly get out of her car, straighten her dress, and then wobble up the beaten path. It was evident by her posture that she wasn't used to high heels.

Wait...why couldn't he really _see_ her?

Embarrassed, he suddenly remembered himself and hastily flicked on the porch light. When he finally came out to greet her, he faltered, feeling as if the very air were being stripped from his lungs.

Beverly grinned up at him. With a hand on her hip, she proceeded to twirl around in a playful circle, the thigh-high slit parting over her smooth leg as she moved. "So whaddaya think? Will I give some old man a heart attack tonight?"

"Holy shit..." Embarrassed when he realized he'd said that aloud, Will feebly backpedaled, "I mean, uhhh...holey... _kit?"_ He hadn't meant to question his own elaborate lie, but it was obvious that he wasn't making much sense.

Beverly arched a brow. "Wow, so were you expecting me to show up in a tuxedo, or something? Get real, Graham. I actually _am_ capable of cleaning up nicely every now and then. Speaking of which..." She grinned and flicked the lapels of his suit. "Look at you, getting all snazzied up in your 'old as the hills' tux! Lecter did a really nice job." Her gaze softened then, and Will noted how her eyes crinkled warmly around the corners. He didn't often get a good look at her face, considering how her hair often obscured her features, but with her locks swept back in an elegant bun, he could see the pleasantness of her well-worn face.

Will cleared his throat. "Well, uh...should we go? Dr. Lecter wanted us there early."

"Yeah? Well too bad, buddy-boy, 'cause your ass is mine for the next several hours. Besides..." She smiled and tapped her silver-plaited watch. "We're running late. Nothing like keeping the party waiting, am I right?"

Here she held her arm out to him, grinning as Will flashed a smile of his own and took her elbow.


	3. Cutting Loose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Beverly grow closer and reach a surprising realization.

After what felt like an eternity, Will finally eased his car into the long, ornate driveway of Dr. Hannibal Lecter's home. Even though the doctor seemed like a relatively reclusive man, there was no question that he was skilled with the art of managing parties.

A flurry of noise suddenly came from out back, and from what Will could discern, there was an adjoining part to the manor that he assumed was used for ballroom dancing.

 _'Who actually has a ballroom built into their house?'_ he wondered.

To Beverly, he whispered, "I'm suddenly feeling a little under-dressed… Somehow I have a feeling I've got the shabbiest suit here."

"Maybe," Beverly coyly agreed, "but you definitely don't have the shabbiest-looking date." She grinned and goosed his ribs.

Trying his best not to blush, Will led her down the path toward the back entrance where the festivities were being held. Past the tall, iron-barred doors laid a tremendous ballroom with gold leaf ornamentation, Brazilian brown flooring and large, scenic windows that stretched all the way from the floor to the ceiling. Since they were a little late, there were already quite a few guests milling around the refreshment tables.

Will blinked as they fully entered the room. When he looked down at his feet, he saw his shocked reflection staring back at him from the sheen of the bright, fussily polished floors. "Holy crap," he whispered.

"Would you care for a drink, sir?"

Startled by the sudden question, Will immediately looked up and observed the hired help for the night. "Uhhh…no, thanks," he declined. He figured it wouldn't be wise to be inebriated at such an event. As the maître d' asked Beverly the same question, he reached into his pocket and retracted some aspirin. If he'd suspected that they would help with his anxiety, he would've gladly taken the whole bottle.

"Ah, Will! Special Agent Katz!"

Practically choking on his pill, the agent rubbed his chin and whirled around. "Oh…hi, Dr. Lecter," he sheepishly greeted. "This is, uh…this is really something else. You sure know how to make we simple folk feel…well… _more_ simple."

"Glad to oblige," Lecter ribbed. Now turning to Beverly, he asked, "Have you tried the hors devours on the left-hand side of the refreshments table? I can guarantee it will be quite a treat."

"We just arrived, so we haven't had anything yet," Will cut in. "I've been taking pills all day, so I think I'm a bit full at the moment."

"Nonsense! You must at the very least treat yourself." Again Lecter's eyes fell on Beverly, for she was one of the few colleagues whom had never sampled his cooking. He took a certain _thrill_ in knowing they were feasting on human flesh – to know that they turned their noses up at his customs, but in the long run enjoyed them as much as he did. "Shall I fetch you a plate?" he asked.

Alana Bloom came up then and smiled, interlocking her arm through Lecter's before whispering something into his ear.

His expression was displeased. "What do you mean, Abigail is sampling the truffles? Tell her to wait like a good hostess!"

Will felt the blood drain from his face. "Abigail…you mean, Abigail _Hobbs_ is here?" He hadn't seen her since his visit to the mental hospital, and he had to admit that the idea of milling with her in the same room was quite unsettling. She reminded him of what he was capable of…she reminded him of what a _monster_ he could be.

Exhaling through his lips, Will sensed a waiter passing by and swiped a flute of champagne from the tray. The maître d' lurched in surprise, though fortunately caught himself from spilling the liquid courage all over the floor.

"Clumsy, clumsy," Lecter tsked. To Beverly, he added, "If your date keeps drinking like this, he will soon be incapable of dancing – for that I must ask: would you care to do me the honors later on this evening? The orchestra will be playing a delightful Lithuanian waltz that is not to be missed."

Will felt his cheeks color. "I'm not drinking that much," he muttered. Alana met his stare and he immediately looked down at the floor, not pleased that she'd been asked to arrive early, as well. At this rate, he'd be hiding under the refreshments table before the gala even truly began.

Sparing Will a sidelong glance, Beverly shrugged and agreed, "Sure, Doc, why not? Will they be playing the Cha Cha Slide later on, by chance? I'm told I _kill_ it with that dance."

"The Cha Cha... _Slide?"_

Beverly raised a brow. "Seriously? Wow. You need a _serious_ lesson on pop culture."

Seemingly tired of this exchange, Alana latched onto Dr. Lecter's arm. "Dance with me, Hannibal," she urged.

He took hold of her hand and nodded, giving her a gallant bow. To Will, he added, "It would be splendid if you two could join us. No one has been brave enough to grace the dance floor yet, so it would be delightful if you could help us set an example."

Will's eyes were wide. "But I…I can't dance!"

Beverly grinned broadly, nudging his arm. "Then learn, young grasshopper!"

"Unless some disco music comes on? Nope! Won't even try it."

Beverly scoffed and folded her arms. "Are you kidding me right now? Maybe I should start calling you 'Chump' instead of 'Champ' from now on! What kind of man can't turn his hot date around on the dance floor?"

Will's face was beet-red. "Oh, and _you_ can?"

"Damn right, I can! I had a strict family – Cotillion was a must." With a smug look in his direction, Beverly tugged on his arm and urged, "C'mon, Champ, let's show these doctors how it's done."

"I don't know..."

Lowering her voice, she whispered in his ear, "C'mon, Graham, Bloom will shit a brick."

"Well, uh...I mean..."

"Great! I _knew_ you'd agree!"

Annoyed since she'd said that loud enough for everyone to hear, Will had no choice but to hand a waiter his glass before Beverly grabbed his hand. To his surprise, she began using all her strength to tug him toward the dance floor.

"No, no, no, _no!"_

But it was too late. Beverly had already dragged him out onto the barren space where Lecter and Alana were preparing to do the waltz, or...whatever the hell it was people did at elegant parties.

"Bev, I don't know how to dance," he hissed. "I've never seen one of those Jane Austen chick flicks, so I can't even pretend to know what I'm doing!"

Beverly winked. "Don't worry, Graham, just follow my lead – I think you'll be surprised at how much you _do_ know." To Will's confusion, as the orchestra's music swelled and ensconced the entire room, Beverly felt the rhythm and began to do the Electric Slide. Out of the corner of his eye, Will could see Lecter sparing them a scathing little glare.

"Beverly," he whispered, "Beverly, _wait..."_

But she ignored him, grinning as she grabbed a hold of his hand and tried to get him to follow her lead. Shyly, Will moved one foot to the right in an attempt at humoring her, but ultimately pantomimed the movements due to his embarrassment. He didn't like that people were watching them. But then, an odd thing happened: as Beverly continued to coax him into dancing, more couples came out onto the dance floor and began to mimic her dramatic, over the top movements. He could see Lecter was about ready to pop a blood vessel. Will finally cracked a smile at that, chuckling as the majority of the room became a mob of Electric Slide dancers. He had to hand it to her...when Beverly wanted to command a situation, she took it by the horns and damn well got her way.

Finally, Beverly seemed to tire of the Electric Slide. She took Will's hands and slyly urged, "Why don't you be a good dance partner and dip me, hmm?"

 _"Dip_ you? Like... _dip_ you, dip you?"

"No, the _other_ dance move called 'dip'...dip _shit,"_ she sarcastically teased. Laughing, she tapped his chest and said, "Yes! Now dip me!"

Feeling ridiculous, Will's hands grew clammy as he unsteadily moved Beverly downward. She swung her arm back in a dramatic fainting motion, grinning up at him as her back arched. By this point Will was grinning too, but unfortunately, that's also when Beverly decided to jerk up and conk her forehead against his. "OW! Jesus, Beverly!"

She began laughing uncontrollably, hugging him around the shoulders as she tried to catch her breath. Unable to help himself, Will began laughing too, the crows' feet around his eyes crinkling as he watched tears of mirth stream down her cheeks.

Lecter was at their side in an instant. "Miss Katz? I heard your friends are looking for you."

Still laughing, Beverly leaned into Will's arm and momentarily rested her forehead against his shoulder. "Who?"

"Zeller and Price...they should be by the refreshments table."

Will couldn't see Brian or Jimmy anywhere, so he assumed Lecter was trying to undo the damage they'd caused to his precious waltz. Nevertheless, Beverly grinned and gave Will's arm an affectionate squeeze. "I'll go see what they want, but then I'll be right back, ok? You're still my date, so I meant what I said: I'm not sharing."

In spite of himself, Will couldn't help but smile as he watched her leave. No matter what the situation, Beverly had a way of making things seem right with the world.

"Will!"

Startled by the jovial tone, he turned and quirked a brow as Jack and Bella Crawford headed toward him. Still influenced by Beverly's razzing, he couldn't help but joke, "Wow, are you _really_ Jack Crawford? You seem a tad too… _pleasant."_

Crawford sneered at his colleague, his hand never leaving his wife's as she patted his chest affectionately. "Who, Jack?" she asked. "He's nothing but a big ol' teddy bear!"

"Grizzly, more like," Will gibed. Smiling in spite of himself, he tucked a hand into his pocket and asked, "Here for the refreshments, I take it? Every time Lecter hosts a shindig, I see your face stuffed in a plate."

"Fuck you, Graham."

"Jack!" Bella hissed. Though her tone was horrified, her eyes were laughing. "Is this really how you FBI agents speak to one another?"

"More than we'd like to admit," Will said. "The man's taught me every curse word I know."

"Want me to teach you a new one right now, Graham? You're embarrassing me in front of my wife."

"Jack, _please."_

He chuckled and sipped at his wine, only to pause and gesture toward the far end of the room. "Is that Dr. Bloom? Beverly mentioned in passing that she would be here tonight, but I wasn't sure that she'd show."

"Why do you say that?" Will asked. He hoped no one noticed the slight flush that had crept up his neck.

Shrugging, Jack explained, "Alana said she would be very busy with her seminars this week."

"Is Dr. Bloom the one doing your psychological profiles?" Bella queried. "I thought I saw her in the paper once…"

"No, no, she's just a consultant. Dr. Lecter is our primary psychological profiler."

Seeming to notice Will's displeasure, Jack placed a hand on Bella's back and urged, "Why don't we go say hi to Dr. Lecter, love? It'd be rude to neglect our own host."

"You're right, of course… Please excuse us, Mr. Graham."

Will nodded with a tight smile, though the moment their backs turned, he lost his perfunctory expression and frowned. He wasn't quite ready to discuss Alana with anyone, and he hadn't even realized how deeply it bothered him until that moment.

* * *

Milling around the refreshments table, Beverly soured as she realized Lecter had more than likely sent her on a wild goose chase. She couldn't find her colleagues anywhere.

Shrugging it off, she ignored a woman's questioning look as she reached for two flutes of champagne.

"Trying to beat your own record, Katz?"

Whirling around, Beverly snorted when she realized it was Zeller and Price. Perhaps they'd been looking for her after all. "As much as I'd love to get drunk off my ass right now, I already promised I'd be on my best behavior."

"That bad, huh?"

"I'm in a dress and five inch heels...what do _you_ think?"

"I dunno," Zeller coyly said, "I feel very 007 in my tux."

Beverly scoffed. "Yeah, if James Bond had a bit of a paunch."

As Zeller scowled, Price pointed toward Will and said, "Your date looks a little lost over there without you...I think he needs a drink in the hand he keeps curling."

Following Price's pointed finger, Beverly paled when she realized Will was being interrogated by none other than Freddie Lounds. "Excuse me," she urged, now clip-clopping toward the duo with purpose. Freddie looked up, surprised.

"Lounds, right?"

The redhead flashed a simpering smile, extending her gloved hand toward the other woman. "Guilty as charged," she agreed, giving a mocking bow of the head. "And you're... _who,_ exactly?"

"Special Agent Katz," Beverly said, ignoring Freddie's outstretched hand. "Is there a problem over here?"

"Why, not at all! I was just telling Agent Graham about the pressures of journalism."

"Oh, _really?"_

Will shifted, appearing uncomfortable.

Folding her arms, Beverly snidely began, "Y'know, I've been meaning to ask you...why don't you ever put something _factual_ in that column of yours? Instead of calling Will Graham a psychopath, you should be unveiling the fact that he's a sex god with a 10 inch-"

 _"Beverly!"_ Will hissed, horrified.

She snorted and tapped the side of her head. "Oh, right, sorry...10 and a _half."_ Entwining her arm through Will's, she began ushering him away as she said, "Now if you'll excuse us, we've got to go make our latest sex tape, _Fifty Shades of Plaid._ Time is money!"

As they left a bemused Freddie Lounds behind, Will indignantly jerked his arm from her grasp. "Why did you do that? Even if you were joking, you _know_ she'll probably put all that in her blog!"

"So what?" Beverly fired back. "Maybe now you'll actually get laid!"

 _"What?_ I don't need inspiration to...to..."

"Right. And da Vinci didn't need inspiration to create beautiful works of art. Trust me on this one, Graham; you'll thank me eventually."

Frustrated, Will pressed his lips together and exhaled. Even if Beverly meant well, sometimes her methods were less than pleasant.

"C'mon," she urged, "let's go back and join the others. You can't make Bloom jealous if you're all the way over here."

Will flinched. In all honesty, he wasn't even sure that he _wanted_ their plan to work anymore. Up until the debacle with Lounds, he'd genuinely been enjoying himself and Beverly's company. The thought of adding a jealousy scheme to the mix suddenly seemed tacky and unwelcome. Nevertheless, he allowed Beverly to lead him over to their colleagues, all of whom were milling around and listening to Lecter speak.

As Will tried to blend in without rudely interrupting, Beverly seemed to have other plans. She smiled and rested her head on Will's shoulder, fondly squeezing his waist as she made sure they were in Alana's direct line of vision. When she knew they had Bloom's attention, Beverly lifted her head and pretended to whisper something suggestive in Will's ear. Even though she'd literally said to him, "This is me saying something coy," he found himself flushing due to the close proximity of her lips to his skin. Her breath tickled him and he swallowed.

Finally, Alana seemed to be fed up with the blatant PDA; she cleared her throat. When Will caught her gaze, she motioned to him with her glass and he frowned, furrowing his brows in confusion. Was she seriously asking him to follow her? He had no desire to speak with her, let alone be with her in one of the many large, extravagant rooms.

Alana was becoming more persistent. As she moved to the French doors that led into the foyer, she approached the grand staircase and began to gesture sharply toward the rooms above.

"I, uh…I'll be right back," Will dumbly said. Nodding to Beverly, he uneasily headed toward where Alana had exited mere moments before. He was anxious and displeased, but knew he needed to face her sooner or later.

The foyer was surprisingly vacant, so Will had little trouble catching up to Alana. She stood at the top of the staircase, waiting impatiently for his arrival. When he reached her, she managed a smile and softly greeted, "Hi, Will. Um…I hope it's not too forward that I want to talk?"

"Of course not," he said, even though he couldn't imagine what she wanted to say. The whole "we're bad for each other" spiel had pretty much summed it up. Though maybe she wanted to further pour salt in the wounds?

Alana touched his arm then, and Will jumped. "Are you ok?" she asked. "I hope our situation didn't make things awkward between us…relationships ground us in life, so you need a friend."

"I _have_ a friend," he shot back. His tone was defensive and curt.

Alana regarded him with the typical soft, sympathetic gaze that he'd grown to dread. He didn't want her pity.

"I'm fine," he finally said. "Is this all you wanted to talk about?"

She shook her head. "No, no, of course not – can we please step inside?" Motioning to the open room to her right, she waited until Will hesitantly slipped past her.

Following in after him, Alana closed the door and leaned against it a moment, her lashes fluttering as she shook her head. "You must hate me," she whispered. "It's been bothering me all week, Will… I don't want us to feel uncomfortable around each other."

"We don't," he argued, though deep-down he knew it was quite the opposite. He'd rather get a root canal than talk with Alana at that moment.

Seeming to sense this, she came toward him and placed a hand over her chest. "I promise you," she gently began, "my intention was _never_ to hurt you... I like you a lot, Will. We had a good thing going before our…incident."

Will frowned, lowering his gaze as his cheeks burned in shame. "Yeah? Well I must've not been all _that_ terrible, because I recall you kissing me back. I'm confused enough without all these mixed signals, you know."

"I know," Alana softly agreed, "and that's why I wanted to clear everything up tonight…I owe you that much."

"So start talking."

She flinched, a little surprised by the sharpness of his tone. As she gazed up into his burning blue eyes, she recognized hints of pain and dismissal. Shaking her head, she observed, "Perhaps you're not in the right frame of mind…"

The laugh that followed was grating, Will's hands shooting into the air before he interlaced them behind his head. "Right," he sarcastically agreed, "of _course_ I'm not! Nobody thinks 'the crazy guy' can handle emotions anymore, so it's necessary to just keep walking on eggshells when he's around!"

Alana's gaze was sharp. "Will, you're being ridiculous… I just don't want to hurt you anymore if you're not feeling-"

"If I'm not feeling _what,_ Lonnie?" he coldly asked. "Because as far as I'm concerned? I'm feeling too _much,_ and that's why I can't concentrate anymore… I can't solve these goddamn cases, and I _definitely_ can't solve the mystery of _our_ relationship, so what do you expect me to say? That I _want_ you to keep bringing this up? That I _want_ to keep feeling this way? Stop pussy-footing around the inevitable! Just tell me what you want, and get it over with!"

Alana lurched back from the growling force of his words, her chin lifting in an attempt at keeping her pride. That was the problem, she realized – they were both far too prideful and stubborn for their own good. Two people with such strong personalities weren't destined to get along, and yet she'd genuinely believed at one point that she could love him. He was different… _she_ was different, but it wasn't enough to keep her from having reservations about his sanity.

"I'm sorry," Alana finally said. "Really, I am, but...shouldn't you be happy? That agent you brought obviously likes you, so-"

"Don't drag Beverly into this," Will warned. "If you don't mind, I'd like to keep her out of our little homespun drama."

Alana was indignant. "That's what this is to you? A 'homespun drama'?"

Will exhaled and ran a hand over his face, wishing for a great flood to come by and sweep him away. He couldn't deal with this anymore – he couldn't deal with the _rejection_ anymore. Finally, he softly pleaded, "Just go, Lonnie… Please. We're obviously not going to resolve anything, so you should just leave before things get worse. At the very least, I'd like us to remain friends."

"Alright," she agreed, "I want that, too."

"Yeah."

Sending him one last searching look, Alana gathered up the material of her dress and lifted it above her feet, stalking off toward the door and leaving Will there to contemplate all that had just transpired.

He thought he heard the door slam, but that could've just been his imagination. At this point and time, _anything_ could just be his imagination.

Approaching the lit fireplace on the far side of the room, Will sank down onto the bench in front of the flames and sighed, bowing his head as he rubbed at his face. He knew that the others were probably wondering where he was, but he wasn't in the mood to come back downstairs just yet. He couldn't face them.

After what felt like several minutes more, he heard the soft click of the doorknob, followed closely by the low hum of the guests talking downstairs. He grimaced and rolled his eyes. "Lonnie, I thought I told you to go… I have nothing more to say to you."

When only silence greeted his ears, a sense of panic filled him and he glanced over his shoulder, blanching when he realized Beverly was standing in the doorway. "Oh…uhhh, sorry." Meekly shooting up from his perch, his lips spread into a nervous smile as he held his hands out at his sides. "I'm not being a very good escort, am I? It wasn't my intention to leave you down there with those snots all by yourself, but…uhhh…I did. Maybe I can get a 'do-over'?"

Moving out from behind the bench, Will tucked his hands into his pockets and looked at Beverly more fully. The soft light from the flames danced on her skin, and it made his chest ache. She looked painfully beautiful. He felt like an ass for making her trek all over Lecter's house looking for him.

"So, uh...did all that 'work talk' chase you away?" he tried again. Though the question was out of place, Will was desperate for something – _anything_ – to say to make the situation less awkward. He didn't want to feel uncomfortable around Beverly, but the issue with Alana had made him feel self-conscious. He hoped that it didn't show on his face.

Beverly flashed him a warm smile. "'Work talk'? No, not really, but they're definitely not as interesting as you are. You're the only one who'll let me talk about my Elvis obsession without groaning."

"You like Elvis?"

She laughed, closing the door as she stepped softly into the room. "Apparently you weren't listening during our drive...I guess some things never change." Coming over and coaxing him into sitting back down, her smile faded as she asked, "You ok? I can't pretend you didn't tell me to buzz off just now, so I'm guessing things didn't go over so well with Alana?"

Will sighed. "Do things _ever_ go 'so well' in my life?"

"Oh, _please._ You're on a date with me right now, aren't you?"

He chuckled. "Well, I guess there _is_ always that."

The two fell into amiable silence, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder as the flames continued to crackle warmly behind them.

Finally, Will felt compelled to talk (which was a rarity all on its own). Glancing toward Beverly, he shrugged and smiled. "I'd hate to think of you doing all of this for nothing, but I've kind of realized that...well...I was pursuing Alana for all the wrong reasons. I wanted a chance to grasp at life and my reality, but I just so happened to grasp at the wrong person." When Beverly quirked a brow, Will assured her, "I don't want Alana." He was surprised by the firmness behind his words. "I mean…maybe I _thought_ I did, but a guy can only take 'no' for an answer so many times. I'm not stupid enough to keep trying. Besides," he softly continued, "I never would've asked you if I'd wanted to take someone else. I'd like to think I'm not _that_ much of a jerk."

Beverly stared at him, surprisingly speechless. Will didn't think she'd ever been this silent for so long, and it honestly made him anxious. Had he said something wrong? Shrugging it off, he decided that he was already this far along, so he might as well keep going. Placing his hand over Beverly's, he smiled and said, "For the record? I really appreciate your honesty. Nobody else seems to think I can handle the truth, so...thank you. Really."

Beverly finally brightened, her smile infectious as she lifted her palm and clasped his hand. "What do you say we ditch these stiffs, hmm? We can go to a DQ in all our finery, pig out on ice cream, go to a midnight showing of some action flick, and then egg Lounds' house for fun." Suddenly registering Will's gaze, she frowned and scooted in closer. "What's wrong?"

He smiled weakly. "Nothing, it's just...you're kind of amazing." Shyly smoothing the loose hair from Beverly's bun, Will allowed his fingers to trace down toward the soft curve of her mouth. Feeling surprisingly emboldened, he brushed his thumb across the expanse of her lips and watched as her exotic, kohl-rimmed eyes met with his. The intensity of her gaze sent a jolt straight through him and he blanched, sucking a breath as he tried to steady himself. Her hand touched the one on her face and he trembled, closing his eyes as her soft, full mouth suddenly came over his. The kiss was firm, but gentle, his fingers lacing through her hair as she pulled him in closer. Her fists clenched his lapels and tugged, causing their mouths to join more strongly together. As Will groaned into the kiss, he felt Beverly's tongue trace along his lips.

With his hands drifting to the small of her back, Will only became marginally surprised when she lifted a leg and straddled him. Threading her fingers through his hair, she angled her face into his and glossed their tongues, now feeling the beginnings of his arousal prodding between her thighs. When Will's hand slid beneath the hem of her dress, he suddenly pulled back and stared up at her in shock. "Did you _seriously_ not wear underwear to Lecter's party?"

Beverly sneered. "Well I'd say it worked out pretty damn well for you, so shut up and kiss me."

With a grin, Will brought his lips to hers and the two laughed, their hearts warm and full as they reclined against the bench.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER AND ADOPTED LOTS OF DOGS AND EVERYONE LIVED. THE END. If any of you have any Will/Bev one-shots you'd like to see written, go over to my "Katz and Dogs" fic and leave a prompt. I'd hate to end that fic just because Bev's gone. :'( So any and all suggestions would be appreciated. :) Let's keep Will/Bev alive (and consider Thomas Harris' canon law since EVERYONE LIVES IN _RED DRAGON_ EXCEPT (most of) THE BAD GUYS)!


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